


Enough For Now

by 2012bookworm



Series: Drive All Night [4]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-11
Updated: 2017-08-11
Packaged: 2018-12-13 23:52:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11771076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2012bookworm/pseuds/2012bookworm
Summary: Will’s dad, like he did every year, was telling the story of the Christmas Eve when they’d run out of milk.





	Enough For Now

**Author's Note:**

> CW: Major homophobia from a family member, including homophobic slurs. See end notes for details.

Will’s dad, like he did every year, was telling the story of the Christmas Eve when they’d run out of milk, sending him on a wild goose chase through the town looking for a store that was still open, since David and Will, five and three at the time, insisted that Santa needed milk, despite Dad’s attempts to convince them that Santa would be just fine with a beer. Will flushed slightly in embarrassment as Gracie giggled, but it was a good story, despite the annual retelling. His mom corrected his dad on the exact nature of the event, and then they were bickering, gently, about whether or not it had been two or three hours he was looking. Will caught Sarah rolling her eyes and shared a grin with his brother, mouthing “pass the potatoes” at him across the table. David slid the bowl over, and Will helped himself to another serving, happy to be home and among his family. Even David, with his own apartment across town, was staying for the night, his mom insistent that everyone sleep under the same roof on Christmas Eve. 

“Dad.” Sarah interrupted the bickering. “Why didn’t you just ask someone in the family if you could borrow a glass of milk?”

Dad stops, feigns consideration. “Because of the after-brunch milk shortage.”

Sarah groans, David and Gracie laugh, and Will and his mom share a look. Christmas Eve brunch is the biggest Poindexter family tradition, everyone descending on Granny’s house with breakfast casseroles and loafs of bread to turn into French toast. It’s always a loud, chaotic mess of aunts and uncles and cousins and cousin’s kids and the unofficial rule is that any significant other brought to the event is serious and therefore up for interrogation. Will thinks he might like to bring Nursey some day, and that thought is terrifying, not only in the level of commitment it implies but because most of his extended family still doesn’t know he’s bi. He’s never been more grateful for the second Poindexter tradition that Christmas Eve dinner is just immediate family than he is now, after spending the morning fielding questions about either his future or his dating prospects. Thankfully, when they all meet up again for Mass, there won’t be time for questions.

He’d told his parents and sisters about Nursey the first night he was home for break, more aggressive than he’d meant to be, fists clenched in his jeans under the table. His parents just exchanged a glance and told him they were glad, and he’d breathed a silent sigh of relief. Sarah, of course, already knew, and Gracie was excited because it was Nursey, who she adored because he’d taught her poker, played for M&M’s. Sarah had called to complain about this newly acquired skillset after Gracie had won all her Halloween candy. Nursey had laughed and told her to give Gracie a high-five. 

“In other news,” Sarah says, trying to change the subject. “Great-Aunt Deborah asked me three times whether I was planning a spring or summer wedding, despite me telling her I’m barely eighteen and don’t even have a boyfriend. Why do we keep going to brunch again?”

“She probably thought you were cousin Alice, sweetheart.” Mom says. “She lost her glasses this morning. And it’s because they’re family. Besides,” She levels Sarah with a look, “Don’t think I didn’t notice you plotting something with James.”

Sarah scowls. “He’s got the combination to an empty locker for my library project.”

“Library project?” David asks through a mouthful of green beans.

Will rolls his eyes. “She’s started a semi-illegal book sharing program to introduce new literature to the masses and drive Ms. Waters crazy.”

David swallows. “Ms. Waters is still teaching? Wow.”

“It’s not illegal!” Sarah protests over the top of David’s sentence. “Besides, your boyfriend is the one sending me most of the books.”

Will’s “I know” crashes with David’s loud “What.”

Everyone turns to look at David as Will freezes. He’d forgotten, somehow, that David didn’t know. Maybe it’s just surprise, not…something else, but Will takes in David’s clenched fist and stormy face and feels something cold start to curl in his chest.

“Um…” Sarah starts, confused. “Nursey keeps sending me books?”

David keeps staring directly at Will. “This Nursey is your boyfriend?”

“Yeah.” Will says.

“He’s super cool.” Sarah says into the rising tension. “You met him this summer.”

David ignores her, choosing instead to growl at Will. “You’re a faggot?”

“David!” His mom says sharply. “We don’t use that word.”

He rounds on Mom, and Will doesn’t relax, still frozen, the cold spreading into his limbs. “You’re ok with this? With Will being a – a homo?” 

“Why wouldn’t she be?” Sarah demands, and Will is both pathetically grateful for and disappointed by her interruption, just so he doesn’t have to hear what his mom might have said. “I can’t believe you’re being such an asshole, god.”

“Language, Sarah.” His dad says, the response automatic.

“But it’s true! He’s an asshole!” She protests.

David focuses back in on Will, anger in every line of his body. “This is because of that stupid liberal school, isn’t it? Still desperate for a way to fit in, Willy? Decided being a cocksucker is the way to make friends?”

“David!” Both his parents snap in unison. It’s not enough, not nearly enough, and Will grits his teeth against whatever’s rising up in his throat, not sure if it’s a sob or scream, pain or rage or a terrible mix of both, just sure that it’s something broken and sharp, tearing up his insides. 

His voice comes out thick. “Shut up.”

“Why? Am I telling you something you don’t want to hear?” David says, mocking, as he shoves away from the table, stands up, and glares down at Will. “Cause I didn’t want to hear my brother’s turned into a pussy.”

And Will lets the rage win, because it’s better than the tears, heat surging up as he stands, knocking his chair to the floor. David flinches back, just a bit, at the reminder that Will’s now taller than him, and these days just as strong. There’s the smallest spark of satisfaction in that, something that bares its teeth and counts any show of weakness a victory, but it’s not enough, the rage is still clawing at him, and underneath the flush and the heat he’s still ice, ice, frozen and hurting.

“You don’t know a thing about me.” He spits, some absentminded part of him noting the way he’s shaking.

David scoffs at that, and Will, distantly, recognizes the sound as one he’s made in arguments with Nursey. “We shared a room for fourteen years. I know everything about you. You’ve always been a weak-willed little follower.”

“What, because I wanted to be just like you?” Will shoots back, intentionally cruel. “Yeah, don’t worry, I figured out that was a mistake.”

“As if you could ever be anything like me.” David sneers. The rest of Will’s family is tense and silent around them, unwilling or afraid to interrupt. “Nerdy little shit.”

“Least I’m not an ignorant asshole.” Will shouts, fists clenched so tight that he can feel his nails digging into the skin of his palms.

David smiles, small and mean and somehow condescending. “No, you’re just a weak, pathetic little fag.”

Gracie bursts into tears, her sobs loud in the sudden silence. Will is abruptly aware of his mother’s white face, his father’s grip on her hand, Sarah’s clenched jaw. The rage starts to drain away, leaving only the cold, the pain, and the worst kind of exhaustion. 

“Fuck you.” He says, letting his shoulders slump. David takes it as a victory. Will’s pretty sure they’ve both lost. He turns and walks out, up the stairs to… he stops outside the room he’s always thought of as his, the one he and David shared, growing up, the one they were supposed to be sharing tonight. He’ll probably end up on the couch or Sarah’s floor then, but for now he has nowhere else to go. He shuts the door behind him, considers gathering up his stuff, but can’t find it in himself to put forth the effort. He’s still shaking, and the cold knot in his chest and sharp lump in his throat are somehow worse, and he fucking can’t anymore. 

He sinks down on his bed, puts his head in his hands, tells himself not to cry. He hears a muffled shout from downstairs and flinches. Merry Christmas to us, he thinks, a little hysterically, we probably won’t make it to Mass. His phone buzzes, an incoming call. He ignores it until it goes to voicemail. He gets two texts in quick succession, and then it starts buzzing again. He’s sure it’s important, but he can’t make himself pick up until it starts the cycle a third time, when he finally fishes it out of his pocket, takes a deep breath, and answers.

It’s Nursey. “Dex, what’s wrong?”

He sounds frantic, but the cold in Will’s chest still warms just a little at the sound of his voice. He’s not sure how Nursey knew to call, but he’s beyond grateful he did.

“Will? What’s going on? Sarah just sent me a text that said ‘Call Will now emergency’ which is not helpful and – are you hurt? This better not be Sarah’s idea of a joke.”

Will chokes down a sob, and fuck, when did he start crying? “I’m fine.”

“Are you crying?” Nursey says, shocked. Which is fair, since Nursey’s never seen Will cry, crying being an activity he tries to avoid. He remembers, suddenly, being eleven and in tears, and David coming in and hugging him, telling him that it would be ok, that big boys don’t cry, but still holding him while he did. “Because crying means you’re not fine, what the hell dude, what’s wrong?”

“It’s just – I’m –“ He starts crying in earnest, vaguely hearing Nursey’s panicked “oh shit”. What the fuck does he say? My brother’s even more of a bigoted asshole than I previously expected and I’m pretty sure we’ve ruined Christmas? I’m hiding in my room that isn’t really my room while my family argues about my sexuality? I don’t know what happens next? None of it’s enough and none of it’s right and Will can’t stop fucking sobbing. 

Nursey keeps murmuring reassuring things over the phone, and edge to his voice that he can’t quite hide, until Will finally gets it together and moves from sobs to sniffles. He tells Nursey the least, or maybe most, awful thing that’s happened tonight. “I made Gracie cry.”

“What?” Nursey says incredulously. “How? I’m going to need more than that, babe. Did you beat her at monopoly or something?”

Will laughs wetly. He hears Nursey let out a relieved breath. “Turns out my brother’s an asshole.”

“What kind of asshole?” Nursey asks, wary, and Will wishes, fiercely, that he was here. That he could see him, read the way his fingers move and shoulders tense, see the expressions flitting across his face.

“The homophobic kind.” He says. Nursey’s silent. Will sniffs, rubs his wrist against his nose. He’s quit shaking, at least. “We may have started shouting at each other over dinner.”

“Oh, Will.” Nursey says, the sympathy evident in his voice. “I’m so sorry.”

Will swallows against more tears. “Don’t, Derek. I can’t deal with it right now.”

“Ok.” Nursey takes a breath. “I’m guessing you don’t want to talk about it?”

“Not… not really. Not now. I’m – I don’t know what’s going to happen next.” Will confesses.

“You are always welcome here, you know that, right?” Nursey says, fierce. “And I’ll come up there if you need me.”

“How?” Will asks, trying to ignore the sudden rush of need, wondering if the cold would go away if he could just bury his face in Nursey’s shoulder. “You don’t drive.”

“I’d figure it out.” He says, deathly serious. “Do you need me?”

Will thinks about it, just for a moment, but it’s Christmas, and he’ll be ok, and he’s pretty sure Nursey’s presence would just make everything more awkward. “No, it’s – I’ll be all right. Thanks, though.” He hesitates. “Would – could you just – talk to me? Tell me about your day? How’s Kate? Did she like her present?”

Nursey sighs. “Yeah, Will. I can do that.”

So Will sits in his childhood bedroom, tears drying on his skin, listening to his boyfriend tell him how much his little sister loved her kid’s watercolor set, and how his mom and stepmom have struck up an odd little friendship, and how Pamela’s pie is nowhere as good as Bitty’s, or even Will’s, and tries to remember how to breathe without shards sticking in his throat.

*** 

Nursey’s still talking when someone knocks on the door. Will ignores the surge of what he is not calling panic and gets up to open it.

It’s Sarah, jaw still clenched, eyes fiery, who immediately wraps him in a hug. He puts his free arm around her and quietly tells Nursey he’ll call him back, before hanging up and burying his face in her hair, ignoring the tears that want to resurface.

They stay there for a long moment before pulling apart, and maybe both their eyes are a little too bright, but it’s ok. She pulls one arm across her body, grabs her own elbow. “Was that Nursey? I told him to call you.”

“Yeah.” Will looks away, clears his throat. “Yeah. Thanks for that.”

“David’s leaving.” She tells him. “Mom kicked him out until he agreed to apologize.”

“Oh.” Will isn’t sure how he feels about that. He wasn’t exactly looking forward to seeing his brother any time soon, but it still makes him feel guilty, that he’s pretty much breaking up his family, that there will be an empty spot tomorrow morning on the couch, around the tree – but there’s also this rush of relief, almost pleasure, that he was the one they chose, that, despite everything, despite what they said this summer, his parents defended him.

“He didn’t really mean it. Not all of it.” He says, not sure if he’s trying to convince Sarah or himself.

“He meant enough.” She says. He turns away. “Will –“

“So, is this going to go down in history as the year I ruined Christmas?” He asks, feigning lightness, trying to avoid dealing with all the conflicting things churning in his gut.

“This isn’t your fault.” She says, grabbing his arm, refusing to let him escape. “None of it. He’s an asshole, end of story.”

He looks back at her, the conviction in her voice and the fire in her eyes, and thinks she could lead armies. He doesn’t know whether to be proud or terrified. “I made Gracie cry.”

She gives him a look, the I-know-you’re-not-that-stupid look he recognizes from his mom. It’s not quite as terrifying, but she’s getting close. “No, David made Gracie cry, because she adores you, and Nursey, and can’t stand the thought of anyone being mean to you.”

He drops his gaze, tries again for nonchalance. “You’re mean to me all the time.”

“Yeah, but that’s different.” For the first time she sounds uncertain. “You know that, right? That it’s just teasing? And if you asked me to, really asked me to, I’d stop.”

He sighs, pulls her back into his arms, gives in to the inevitable. “I know. I’m just… deflecting, I guess.”

“I’m sorry.” She says, muffled by his shirt. “For all of it.”

“Me too.” He says, as raw as he can manage at the moment. He laughs, sharp. “I really did want to be just like him growing up.”

She pulls away, leaves him at arms length. “But why? You’re better.”

He thinks of David, popular and charming, who taught him how to drive, with his own business and his easy way of moving through the world, in contrast with Will and his awkward uncertainty, his temper, who could only follow in David’s wake and hope to be noticed. “Pretty sure I’m not.”

She thumps him, lightly, on the shoulder, ignoring his muttered “Hey,” and glares. “Yes, you are. He didn’t come to my seventh grade piano recital.”

Like that one event equals definitive proof. “No one came to that recital.” He reminds her. “Not even Mom. You told us not to come.”

“Yeah, but you did anyway.” She says, slowly, the tone of you’re-just-not-getting-it obvious.

He ducks his head, feels himself blushing. He had shown up, just for blackmail material, sitting near the back and snickering through a series of gawky middle school girls playing unrecognizable classical music until Sarah showed up on stage, trembling so bad he could see it. “Only so I could tease you about it.”

“But you didn’t.” She smiles at him. “You just cheered and took me out for ice cream after.”

“Yeah, well.” He mumbles. “It was important.”

“Exactly. You always know when things are important. And you always show up.” She makes sure she catches his eyes. “That’s always meant more to me than David’s… absentminded affection and willingness to invite me to cool parties.” He stays silent. She sighs. “Look, all I’m trying to say is – I’m on your side, ok?”

He tries to smile at her, knows it probably comes out more like a grimace. “I just wish there didn’t have to be sides.”

“I know.” She says, and hugs him again. He lets himself melt into her, just a little.

Which is how Gracie finds them a few moments later, face still red from crying. She barrels into their sides, and Will puts his arm around her, pulls her in close. “Hey, Gracie-girl. It’s ok.”

She sniffles. “Mom and Dad said it’s ok to come downstairs now. So we can finish dinner. Please?”

And Will would rather stay up in his room and hide some more, call Nursey back and let himself get lost in their banter, but it’ Christmas Eve, and Gracie’s asking, and he already feels like he’s ruined enough. So he’ll pull himself together, somehow, and go back down. He kisses the top of her head. “I’ll be there in one minute, ok?"

She nods into his shirt and reluctantly lets go. “Love you, Will.”

He blinks back a fresh wave of tears. “Love you too.” She disappears back down the stairs, Sarah following with a look that says see? He shoots off a quick text to Nursey, just to tell him everything’s ok and he’ll call later, before going to the bathroom to wash the tear streaks off his face. He grimaces at his reflection, pale and blotchy in turns, eyes red. He can feel a headache looming, but he takes a breath, splashes his face a few times, stuffs everything down as deep as it can go, and heads back to the kitchen. 

He hovers in the doorway a moment, looking at the empty chair, plate already cleared. His mother stands up, still pale but mouth firm, and hugs him, whispering “I’m sorry,” as she does. He manages not to either flinch or break down again. He has the semi-hysterical thought that everyone keeps apologizing and he keeps not being able to deal with it before he pulls away and sits down at the table.

“We’ve decided,” His dad says, “No Mass tonight. We’re going to watch Christmas Vacation instead.”

Gracie lights up, and Will manages a smile. It’s his favorite Christmas movie, which is probably why his dad picked it, but, well, it’s still a Christmas movie. He’s trying to decide if it will be good to laugh at someone else’s dysfunctional family or if it’ll just make him sad. It might be better just to go to bed. It’s already been a long day, and now… he shakes his head, trying to reengage in the conversation.

It’s awkward at first but gets progressively easier, mostly due to Sarah and his dad, both of whom seem determined to avoid any sort of silence. They finally start arguing about whether or not sweaters with actual bells are ever appropriate attire, even at Christmas, and Will breathes out a silent sigh as the conversation finally becomes natural. His mom stays quiet and keeps glancing at him, worried. He avoids her gaze by staring down at his plate, exhausted and still heartsick, but pushing it all away until he can deal with it later. He notices, absentmindedly, that his phone keeps buzzing, but he ignores it until Sarah sneaks a glance at her phone and snorts out a laugh.

“Sarah, no phones at the table.” His mom admonishes.

“Sorry, sorry, just…” She types a quick response, and looks up at Will. “Nursey’s worried about you. And he said to check your phone.”

Will sighs and opens his phone, expecting a jumble of worried messages, and instead finds a stream of encouraging text messages from almost the entire team and most of the alumni. It’s just simple stuff, a “you’re really cool” from Whiskey, a “Best friend ever. Call me if you need anything” from Chowder, an “I affirm you in all ways” from Shitty, and dozens more. He swallows hard, and scrolls through, starting to feeling warm for the first time since his brother started shouting. He’s so thankful for the team. 

“What’s wrong?” Gracie asks, crowding up next to him and trying to read over his shoulder.

He shakes his head, voice coming out a croak. “Nothing, just –“ A team that loves him. “– the team.”

“Nursey told them you needed cheering up.” Sarah says. She grins. “Also, he wants to know if you’re really all right or if he needs to figure out a way to get up here.”

He laughs, and it’s watery, but it’s real. “No. I already told him I was ok.”

“For some reason, he doesn’t believe you.” She says, crossing her arms and arching an eyebrow at him.

“Tell him, if he’s free, to come up for New Years.” His mom says suddenly. “He can bring his mom, if he wants, or Will, you can go down there, if that’s easier.”

“Mom.” Will says, vaguely appalled at the idea of Nursey’s mom meeting his parents.

“What?” She says, stubborn, a tiny smile on her face, the first he’s seen since David left. “He obviously cares for you, and we know you care for him, we should meet his family.”

And yep, they’re not getting out of this. “Mom. We’ve barely been dating six months!”

“So?” She says. “Your father an I knew after three.”

Will groans, collapsing face first onto the table, and listens to Sarah cackle and start typing. Knowing Nursey, he’ll say yes immediately, though Will can’t remember if Nursey’s mom has New Year’s off or not, so maybe he’ll at least be spared that. He tries to focus on the fact that his mom wants to meet his boyfriend’s parents, when a few months ago she didn’t like the idea of him having a boyfriend at all, rather than the fact that she’s already hinting at marriage. It is too early for that. 

His mom reaches over and pats his head, and he feels Gracie try to pry his phone out of his fingers so she can read his texts. He knows, somewhere in the back of his chest, where he’s stuffed all the hurt and fear and pain, that this isn’t enough, that something’s still broken, that this single moment won’t fix the empty place at the dinner table or the raw wounds from a brother he loves who he thought loved him, but right now he doesn’t feel quite so frozen anymore, and he thinks, or at least he hopes, that it’s a start.

**Author's Note:**

> CW: Will's brother ends up being homophobic, and when Will's boyfriend is mentioned, the two get into a fight wherein the brother uses a series of homophobic slurs. The brother ends up getting kicked out, but that doesn't mean everything is magically better.


End file.
